


Routine

by the_gay_one20



Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: F/F, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-03 06:33:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24466513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_gay_one20/pseuds/the_gay_one20
Summary: This is set after Rome, and is pretty much separate from the new season, besides Niko being in the institution. Just a short one shot (possibly) about a routine Eve and Villanelle have happened upon.
Relationships: Eve Polastri/Villanelle | Oksana Astankova
Comments: 2
Kudos: 39





	Routine

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fanfic I've posted in probably like 6 years so please be kind!

I felt hands run down my bare back, familiar hands. Long fingers and palms that are calloused but soft at the same time-and warm. To have such a chilling presence at times, she is always warm to the touch. Sometimes, I feel that she should be ice cold because there are moments that she is just not here in this world with me. I can touch her, see her, even laugh with her during these times, but I can look past her eyes and tell she is on some other mental plane that I can’t reach . Those piercing hazel orbs can feel like daggers when they look at me, like they could pin me by my clothes against a wall. It’s knowing the power that she has that leaves me feeling so helpless. The control, the knowledge, the overall skill in life is what makes her so utterly fascinating and terrifying all at the same time. Though the interesting thing about all this is, is that I am no longer scared of her. I am no longer alarmed of anything because of her. I started leaving my door unlocked, wishing for her to come in uninvited as she has done so many times before. Wanting this even after she shot me, leaving me for dead in a crumbling, ancient building thousands of miles away from my home. Not even a year before that, I shoved a knife into her stomach, almost killing her. And yet, after all that, I continued to leave my door unlocked. I missed her, and I couldn’t help but miss her. I tried day in and day out to stop thinking about her, to stop hoping she would find me on the street again. Because a part of me believed that if she did, she would kill me, but the other part of me did not care. That part of me just wanted her near me again.

She did start coming, finally... The first night I was petrified; I assumed she was going to kill me right there in my bed, but she didn’t. Instead she took off her shoes and pants and crawled into bed with me. Not even saying a word, like this was something we did almost every night in my tiny studio. Now, this strange incident is one that occurs most nights out of my week. I am never sure when she will come, but I always leave my door open for her. When she does it’s usually around midnight. She will come in and usually I am already in bed dozing, but sometimes if I am awake, we will talk about our days and what we did. She will tell me about a target, and I tell her about work at the Bitter Pill. But when she come in and I am dozing off, she will quietly take off her clothes and slide under the covers with me. That has become our little routine, though sometimes I won’t see her for weeks at a time and it starts to worry me. Then I will get a text from a random number, it‘s always a V and a bed emoji, telling me that she will be back soon and that she is okay. No one in my life knows of my secret guest, and if they did I would most likely be arrested by British Intelligence. I have no doubt that The Twelve knows of our sleepovers, but I am sure they see me as a null issue now, given that my investigation into them has ceased.

I feel the hands on my back again, rubbing small circles against my shoulders; to be so dangerous, she can be so gentle… I roll over and open my eyes to see Villanelle next to the bed in her underwear, waiting for me to move over. “I’m glad you’re back,” I say, drowsily rolling back over onto my stomach to give her room. It has been close to a week and a half since Villanelle has been here. I’m not sure where she’s been, or what she’s been doing. But that is one of the wonderful things about our arrangement, neither of us have any obligation to tell the other where they’ve been unless they want to. I feel the weight in the bed shift, and her toned arms pull me onto my side and into her chest. “Aller dormir, belle,” she says in French. _Go to sleep, beautiful_. I feel her nose rub up against the back of my neck, and she burrows her face in my hair.

This is all it’s been for 3 months off and on, she comes in, gets in bed and we go to sleep. She usually leaves around 7 the next morning, early enough to slip out of my apartment relatively unnoticed. And it is all so intimate for it to not be sexual, yet. I know Villanelle is attracted to me, I mean she has certainly not tried to hide it in the past, and she gets a bit braver every other time she comes. I hate to admit it myself, but I am just as captivated by her as she is with me. Who wouldn’t be? She’s beautiful with her long curvy body, blonde hair, big smile, high cheek bones, and those eyes; to be so empty at times, they can just suck me in to the point I feel like I could go to that other realm just by looking at her. I roll back over to face her. Her eyes are closed, and I look at her forehead to see a trial of dried blood running from her hairline down to her cheek. “Villanelle what happened?” I ask, brushing her hair back to try and get a better look. “It’s fine, Eve," she groans. “Let me at least clean you up before we go to sleep,” I say as I climb over her and walk to my bathroom. I grab a bath cloth and wet it, some wound disinfectant, a band aid, a couple cotton balls and a dry towel too. I go and sit back down on the edge of my bed, and she doesn’t move. “Come on, sit up so I can clean your head,” I say, patting her shoulder. She groans dramatically like a child and eventually sits up. I start dab the side of her face with the wet cloth, getting the blood off so I could see the wound. “You have such small breast,” She says, looking down at my bare chest. “Shut up, quit looking at them.” “You’re the one without a shirt on, but either way, they are still nice.” She goes to touch one and I pop her hand away, causing the most pitiful pout to form on her face. “You’re no fun…”

It was a decent cut on the top of her forehead, not too deep thankfully. “Villanelle, what happened?” I ask, lightly pressing a cotton ball with disinfectant to the cut. “My target just managed to knock my head into a bar, it’s not a big deal,” She said, wincing a bit from the sting of the disinfectant. “Well, I feel like you’ve already been dropped on your head enough. You need to be more careful.” I dry her head and can see that the cut is not bleeding anymore, then gently stick the band aid on. “Alright, all cleaned up.” I get back up and throw away the cotton balls and put the towels in my hamper to be washed. When I come back out of the bathroom Villanelle is sitting up in bed, regarding the scar on her stomach. The scar that I gave her. My heart drops and my own scar starts to hurt, the exit wound from that day in Rome. So much has happened between us, my normal life crumbling because of her, my best friend dying by her hand, my husband going insane and being put in a mental institution because of Gemma being killed next to him. But I can’t stop. She has slithered her way into my life, and even after everything, I don’t mind it. I like our routine, and I like her and know that there is no changing who she is or the things she’s done. Niko, though he has been out of the institution for a week, has yet to contact me. He won’t even respond to my text or calls. He doesn’t know of mine and Villanelle’s routine either, if he did it would probably put him back in the institution.

Villanelle looks back up at me, as I rub the back of my shoulder trying to stop the ache of my scar. “I’m sorry.” She says softly. Did she really just apologize to me? The psychopath who shot me and seems to have no feelings 85% of the time just apologized. “What?” I ask, looking at her perplexed. “I am sorry I hurt you.” She said again, gazing at me with those deep, cat-like eyes. I walk over and sit next to her on the bed. “You actually feel bad about that?” “Yes, at least I think that’s what I’m feeling. It makes my chest ache when I think about what I did to you.” “Then why did you do it?” I ask. She looks down at her scar again. “I suppose for the same reason you did this to me; I was angry and upset and I thought killing you would free me of this hold you have on me.” God she’s right, that is exactly why I stabbed her all those months ago. I reach out and run my thumb over the scar on her stomach. “You’re right.” “I know I’m right, dummy.” She quips back, sure of herself in that annoying ‘I’m smarter than you’ way. I push down onto her scar and she yelps, “Ow, Eve!” “Don’t be such a smart ass! Can’t just have a nice moment, can you?” I crawl back over her in bed, plopping myself down under the covers and facing the wall. I feel her arms wrap around me again, and her hand runs up and down my side. “Eve... don’t be mad at me.” I can feel her pouting against my shoulder then her lips pressed again my scar. “I really am sorry...” And I sigh in defeat, because I know by now that I cannot stay mad at her.

For as long as I’ve hated her, I’ve been obsessed with her. I accepted months ago that my adoration of Villanelle outweighed my hatred towards her, and that there was no way I would be able to keep myself away from her. That’s why I started to leave my door unlocked, because I knew when she found out I was alive, she would come find me. “I’m not mad, you’re just an annoying sometimes,” I say as I reach back, patting her cheek. “But you still like me, even though I am annoying.” “Yes, Villanelle. Sadly, even after everything I still like you.” “Good. I like you too.” Villanelle kisses across my shoulder and down my arm. I exhale and I feel the strings in my heart being tugged by the gentleness of her in this moment, so I roll over and look at her once more. I stroke her face with my hand then let it slide back into her hair. Her hair is down, which is something I rarely get to witness, and she’s stunning. I am so in love with this woman.

She starts to pull me closer, pressing our bodies together and I feel her nose brush against mine as she leans in to kiss me. I let it happen because I know I’ve needed this, needed her for so long. Our lips meet in a tender kiss, and god it makes my whole body feel like its on fire. She’s coiled herself around me, leaving me no room to sink away from her, but I would never do that-not anymore. She has to know now that I would follow her to the ends of the earth, the deepest reaches of the sea, and that farthest unknowns we could reach. As twisted as my love for her is, it goes deep, and is greater than anything has ever been in my life. We finally come up for air and I am staring at her, wide eyed and surprised. “I have wanted to do that for so long…” Villanelle says, bringing her hand up to brush away some of my stray curls. “And I’ve wanted you to. I should have told you this in Rome, but I was still in denial about my feelings… I love you too, Villanelle.” And at that a smile spreads across her face. “You do?” “Of course I do, Vill.” I bury myself back into her chest, unintentionally letting out a yawn from pure exhaustion. Villanelle chuckles and strokes my hair, and I can sense that she is over the moon right now. “maintenant va dormir, mon coeur,” she says. _Now go to sleep, my heart_. My stomach flutters and I smile against her neck. “Okay…I have tomorrow off if you want to stay.”

The next morning I’m in that state of being half awake and half asleep. My heart sinks because it feels like there isn't anyone in the bed with me anymore. I guess Villanelle left after all. I finally get to the point that I’m fully awake and I smell food cooking, so I rub the sleepiness from my eyes and see Villanelle standing in my kitchen in nothing but an oversized T-shirt cooking breakfast. “Villanelle, you’re still here.” “Yes, of course, and I am making breakfast.” I climb out of bed and throw on a t-shirt. Her long, strong legs stretch out from under the t-shirt as she playfully dances in front of the stove. “It smells wonderful.” I say as I walk up next to her at the counter, resting my hand on the small of her back. “Yes, I am a fantastic cook, even when working with the bare minimum. I mean really, Eve, you should get more food, and a new place, and new clothes.“ she said, waving the spatula around, then scoops the eggs and bacon onto a big plate. “Hey, I know I’m not living in the lap of luxury, but it does the job.” I laugh, grabbing a plate from the cabinet. “You should let me take care of you Eve, I have a lot of money. You could have a nice apartment, beautiful clothes, and anything you could possibly want.” We sat down at the kitchen table, and the thought of Villanelle being my sugar momma made me cackle. “Really?! And what do you think MI6 would think of that, or Niko? That’s very sweet of you, Villanelle, but really.” “Well considering you don’t work for MI6 anymore, and you are hardly married to Niko anymore, it wouldn’t be a big deal," she replies ,then takes a bite of her eggs and smiles at me. “Well just because I don’t work for them anymore doesn’t mean they don’t keep tabs on me, and I am still married to him whether I like it or not. And until he decides to text me back those divorce papers sitting at my lawyer’s office will not be doing either of us any good.“ “Whatever, woman.” She chuckles.

Villanelle looks so fresh to have just woken up. Her skin was glowing, her cheeks a rosy color, her blonde hair pulled back in its usual ponytail, and her smile was bright. Meanwhile I probably look like someone just dragged me out of a cave. “I have a big job coming up soon,” Villanelle says, then finishes off the rest of her bacon. “Really? How long will you be gone?” “I’m not sure, it’s in America. You can come with me, you know? “You are all about the crazy suggestions today aren’t you,” I laugh and press a kiss to her temple, then gather the dirty plates and take them to the sink. I put the plates and pans in the skin and turn on the water to start washing them. I hear her chair slide across the floor, and a few seconds later I’m being pulled back by my hips and Villanelle’s body presses against my back. “Come one Eve, we’ll stay in a beautiful New York hotel. Just the two of us.” Her hands slip under the front of my shirt and she traces her fingers above the hem of my underwear. My knees feel weak and I gasp as her hands then travel up my stomach and over my ribs, “Villanelle...” God she knows I can’t say no to her. “Yes, Eve?” She asks, her arms wrapping tightly around my bare waist, and her nose burying itself in my hair. “Why do you have to be so damn persuasive?” I chuckle and turn in her arms, snaking mine around her neck as I stand on my tip toes and press my lips to hers. She smiles against my mouth and picks me up into her arms. My legs hook around Villanelles hips as she lifts me, and she sets me down on the counter. “So,” Villanelle starts, trying her best to hide the grin that’s threatening to show itself on her face, “is that a yes?” “Of course it is, Vill.”


End file.
